Page 15 of Cade

CHAPTER SEVEN

“I can’t do this any longer.”

“What can’t you do any longer?” asked the man.

“Live! I don’t want to live any longer!” he yelled. He was walking along the top railing of the bridge. It was a four-inch-wide concrete rail, and he was walking back and forth like a caged tiger.

“Tim, you need to get down from there,” he said.

“You’re not listening! I can’t do this any longer! It hurts too much; everything hurts too much. My head. My chest. My hands. Everything hurts.”

“Tim, you’re not being reasonable right now. We know that you’re hurting, and we’ve adjusted your medications for you. We just need to adjust them again. Don’t do this, Tim. It won’t make anything any better.” He slid his hand into his front pocket and felt for the small disc, running his finger over it.

Tim walked the ledge further out to the middle of the bridge. On one end, he could see traffic stopped by three sheriff’s vehicles. On the other end were two state police vehicles. Cars were lined up behind them, impatiently waiting for him to either jump or get the hell down.

They didn’t understand. None of them understood. Three years of visits to the veterans hospital. Three years of questions and paperwork and prescriptions. Three years of constant pain and no one listening to him. Nothing was working for him. His wife had already left him, but then again, who could blame her. She was beautiful. Young, gorgeous, sexy as shit, and he was a broken-down Army medic with psychiatric issues and a dick that wouldn’t stay hard. He’d leave himself too, if he could. In fact, that’s what he was trying to do.

One of the state troopers started walking toward them, and the doctor held up his hand.

“I’ve got this handled, young man,” he said in an authoritative voice.

“Yea? Well, it doesn’t look that way from my end.” He turned to the man on the bridge and took two steps toward him. “Hey, brother. I’ve been there. Eight years in the Marine Corps. Five of those were in the sandbox. This ain’t how you want to go, trust me. You’re stronger than this. Much stronger.”

“He won’t listen to me,” he said, grabbing the sides of his head. “I’m in so much pain. It hurts so much.”

“I know, brother, I know, but this isn’t the way to get rid of the pain. Please, take my hand and come down from there.” He reached out to the man, taking another step closer. If he could just get him to grab his fingers, he’d pull him to safety. The other man lifted his hand, then just as suddenly, gripped the side of his head again, screaming as if in pain. He shook his head, losing his footing.

“No!” yelled the trooper, reaching for him. It was too late. He slipped backward, falling to the rocky riverbed below. The sickening thud of his body hitting the rocks, bent in an unnatural way.

“I told you I had this under control,” said the doctor with an air of superiority.

The trooper just stared at him, then turned and walked toward the waiting ambulance. He would go down and help to recover the body. And when they did, he was going to make sure a complete autopsy was done on the young man.

Someone had to care. Someone.

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